


Why Marcus Hates '98

by InimitableBiscuit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bill Weasley is unashamedly slutty, Break Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Flintwood, Infidelity, M/M, Make Up, Multi, Open Marriage, Second Chances, Second War with Voldemort, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, but more of a fleur sandwich, grammar what grammar?, kind of weasleycest, with unrequited bill/charlie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16605230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InimitableBiscuit/pseuds/InimitableBiscuit
Summary: It's the middle of the 2nd Wizarding War against Voldemort, the Order is struggling. Oliver is constantly seeking ever more dangerous missions while Marcus hides alone in their unplottable flat trying to avoid being recruited/killed by the Death Eaters. That is how it stays until the letters come that ruineverything





	1. Caught (Oliver)

“What the everloving fuck?” came the explosion behind him. Oliver startled, dropping the floo powder on the floor. He was momentarily caught up by the green and black sparkling through the air (all the better to help avoid looking toward the door). _Shit_ he thought, _now was crunch time_ , straightening, the burly scot turned towards the doorway leading to the small hall. He attempted not to cringe as he caught sight of the fucking enormous man taking up the whole door frame. 6’5” of solid muscle quivering in rage glared at him. Oliver wasn’t frightened, no, he’d never been intimidated by Marcus on or off the pitch. Oliver was cringing from guilt. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t seen you in _three_ days, you snuck in at two a.m. and didn’t even come in to say hello or sleep in our bed and now, hah! Now you are sneaking out again without saying goodbye!” the note of hysteria in Marcus’ voice was evident even to Oliver’s sleep deprived state. He finally dared to look at his partner’s face, shocked as he spotted tears silently tracing their way down the dark cheeks. 

“Shit babe, I don’t even know where to start” he tried. Oliver truly didn’t - what _should_ he say? The fact was that, despite how much he loved and trusted his partner, Marcus was a security risk the Order of the Phoenix disapproved of. He was committed to both but right now the Order had to take precedence. They were in the middle of a war, he’d thought that Marcus had understood that. Oliver took a step toward the openly weeping man in the doorway but stopped again as Marcus held up his hand defensively. 

“Just don’t” Marcus whispered in a broken voice that made Oliver’s stomach clench. “I can’t stand it any more. I never know if you’re alive or dead or just fucking around with the rest of the Order between missions.” 

“I don’t fuck around” started Oliver hotly, going bright red. 

“That’s interesting isn’t it?” yelled Marcus, instantaneously switching from utterly distraught to murderously angry “All those fucking owls from Charlie fucking Weasley say different.” Marcus started to cry again “I thought you were over him years ago, you promised me Ols, you _promised_ ”. This was worse than the rage Oliver thought (even worse, Marcus was right, he _had_ promised). 

Oliver tried again, his voice breaking “I...I just...I’m so sorry Mar. I can’t talk to you about missions before they happen and I don’t want to tell you how bad they were after. Once we’ve been healed up...I dunno, near death experiences leave me with the same high that a really hard match gives...” he trailed off lamely after glancing up wild-eyed at Marcus, tracing the strong lines of his face. 

“I’m sorry I can’t take back what I’ve done. I promise I’ll try to do better” he said, then waited, head bowing under the weight of scrutiny from the other man. He watched Marcus’ form, the way the warm light of the flames from the fireplace danced on the dark caramel skin of his bare chest, his face partially hidden in the shadows cast by the door frame. 

The cheery scot could normally take anything life threw at him. It was why he and Charlie made such a good partnership for the more dangerous mission, they both stayed calm against the terrifying intensity in a way normal people just didn’t. But this time, oh this time Oliver felt only fear in the pit. He just did not want to hear what was coming. The fire crackled and spat while marcus stood there measuring him silently. Despite the warmth from the hearth the shadows felt as if they were crawling over him, chilling his body to the bone. After what felt like an age the reply came, jolting Oliver back to the present. 

“No” came Marcus’ deep voice. Oliver focused on his partner’s eyes. They were their usual steel grey, beautiful with the tears still glittering around the lashes like tiny diamonds but the look inside them was the same hard, burning force that Marcus turned on tricky opposing teams. Oliver knew he was lost with the next words. 

“You are going to return to headquarters now. I will see you again when the war is over if we’re both still alive.” 

A sob tore itself from Oliver’s chest as he shook his head, barely noticing the tears streaming down his face. 

“Mar...” he tried but the larger man cut him off, voice breaking 

“Go. Now. I’ll get your stuff together and someone else can come collect it in the next hour” 

“Mar, no” Tried Oliver again but Marcus was openly crying now as he stopped Oliver speaking again. 

“It c-can't be you or Ch-charlie. I’ll key Order members into the wards” Marcus choked as he stepped backwards into the hall. “Go. Good luck with the war” and with that, Marcus shut the living room door quietly but firmly. 

Oliver was left stood on the colourful hearth rug blinking in shock. Barely able to see through the tears he turned, grabbed a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire before stepping in and calling “Shell Cottage”. The roaring, sickening rotation ended surprisingly quickly, leaving him staggering into Bill and Fleur’s cosy little sitting room. He made it a couple of steps before collapsing onto the floor in wretched a ball of misery. He didn’t even register the stocky figure of Charlie Weasley appearing in the doorway drying his hands on a tea towel. Charlie cocked his head, taking in the scene. 

Out of nowhere Oliver heard Charlie’s voice above him “Ols, what’s wrong?” asked the older man, causing Oliver to curl further into himself. Oliver heard swift footsteps but could not bring himself to move his head away from his knees. 

“Is it Marcus? Is he hurt? Is the flat compromised?” asked Charlie urgently, unable to think of anything else that would make his mission partner _this_ distressed. He sat on the floor next to Oliver and threw an arm round him. Oliver briefly nestled into the touch then almost immediately leaned away shaking his head against his knees as Charlie stroked his brown locks. 

“Shit bud, you need to tell me what’s up or I’ll have to go through and check myself”. Oliver shook his head violently at Charlie’s words before finally lifting it to look at the ceiling. He took a steadying breath and said in a low, broken tone 

“You can’t. Marcus has keyed the wards against us.” 

“What?” asked Charlie, aghast. 

“He found out about us and he’s kicked me out” said Oliver. The hand on his head stilled and was slowly withdrawn. Ollie finally turned his head enough to see the vibrant redhead’s face. He was staring at Oliver as if he had admitted to torturing baby dragons. 

“Are you telling...” Charlie shook his head a couple of times to clear the ringing in his ears. “Are you telling me that you have been cheating on Marcus with me for the past _nine months_?” Charlie closed his eyes, head back as he pieced it all together, then he snorted a humourless laugh “ _Of course_. The first time was with permission from Marcus like you said wasn’t it?” 

“Yes” whispered the other man. 

“But that was just for that time?” Charlie asked. 

“Yes” came the almost inaudible reply. 

“So you let me assume you had blanket permission for an open relationship and you let Marcus assume that everything was back to normal?” 

“Pretty much” Oliver sighed “I know it’s not okay and I’m sorry”. Charlie stood abruptly. 

“You utter arsehole” he said softly, surveying the scot. “He’s done everything you’ve asked for, _everything_.” He shook his head again “I’m going to write a letter to Marcus then I’ll send Bill through to get your stuff. I don’t really want to see you right now.” 

The younger man nodded. “I understand” he said simply. Charlie gave him one last disgusted look and strode away. Oliver could hear his feet thumping up the stairs as he slowly untangled himself and moved to the sofa where he curled up and went miserably to sleep.


	2. Sought (Marcus)

Back at the flat, Marcus resisted the urge to destroy everything. He stood, fists clenched, head leaning against the living room door until he heard the floo go. He rekeyed the wards then allowed himself one heartfelt scream of anguish before turning towards the bedroom. 

“Fuck you Oliver fucking Wood for breaking my heart” he ground out between gritted teeth as he opened the wardrobe and took out Oliver’s rucksack. Pulling his wand out, he muttered “ _Accio_ Oliver’s clothes”, roughly directing the flying clothing into the open top of the bag with his wand. Next, he walked over to now spare bedside table and picked up all the photo frames there. He carefully wrapped each one into one of Oliver’s jumpers before placing them into the bag. There went the one of Oliver with his mum and baby sister; there went the Puddlemere United team photo with Oliver’s face beaming out from the keeper’s section; shit, there went the one of Marcus smiling shyly at the camera because Ol’s was the only person who could make him smile. The last picture slipped slightly in his hand as he was overwhelmed with memories. He’d always felt too big, too dark, too ugly, too intense to be worth anything to anyone until Oliver had shown him what it was to be valued. A sob tore itself from his mouth as he caught the photo at the last possible moment. Clamping his mouth firmly shut, he wrapped this photo too and set it carefully in the bag with the others. 

Scrubbing his eyes with one hand, Marcus headed into the bathroom and collected up Oliver’s toothbrush and shave kit. The dark man paused again, then reached out deliberately and added the scot’s preferred shampoo and shower gel. Marcus though his toothbrush looked strangely lonely in the glass. He was shaken from his reverie by the sound of the floo chiming. Snatching up the bag, he strode into the living room to see a man’s head in the fireplace, green flames licking around red hair. Harsh scar lines cut across the man’s features. 

“Bill” said Marcus in surprise. 

“Hi Marcus, may I come through?” the redhead asked politely. 

“Yes. Thanks for helping out” Marcus replied. The head withdrew and a few moments later Bill Weasley’s spinning form arrived. Dusting himself off, Bill glanced at the man in front of him. Marcus seemed composed yet fragile, as if he was holding himself carefully still to prevent himself from shattering across the floor. Marcus’ eyes were red but currently dry, when Bill held out his parchment filled hand, they flickered down to it and back to his face. 

“What is it?” asked Marcus. Bill reckoned he knew what the other was thinking so he quickly replied 

“A letter from Charlie but I can give you the gist of it if you don’t feel up to reading anything right now”. There was a pause before Marcus found his voice, low and rough 

“Hit me with it” 

Bill cleared his throat. 

“Okay then. Charlie did not know you were in a closed relationship. He is so sorry that he in-advertantly helped Ollie cheat on you. In fact he’s absolutely raging, I don’t know if my spare room will still be there when I get back. He wrote the other two letters to you because he was excited at the possible prospect of being part of a trio again when the war is over and he wanted to start getting to know you personally.” 

When Bill had finished, he coughed and looked at his feet “We’re at Shell Cottage if you need anything. The floo’ll be open to you okay?” 

Marcus stood there, slightly stunned. “Th-thanks” he stuttered, touched and confused. Thrusting out the hand that was holding Oliver’s bag, he muttered “Here’s his stuff” 

He noticed Bill staring at him slightly apprehensively, making no move to take the backpack. A ghost of a grin crossed his face. 

“Don’t worry, none of it’s hexed Weasley. I’m so fucking pathetic I even packed his fucking poncy shower gel” he said. 

The other man slowly shook his head. “it’s not pathetic to care Marcus. Years of love don’t just stop”. With that, Bill turned to go back through the floo. He was stopped again by Marcus’ deep voice 

“I’m packing up myself to go now. The flat is gonna be keyed to the Order for apparition only. The ref is _Flint’s Haven_ , use it...oof!” Marcus was taken by surprise as he was engulfed in a huge hug from the redhead. Bill had dropped the luggage by the fireplace, strode over and pulled the larger man into his arms before he could blink. Bill looked up at the dark features twisted in confusion. 

“Stay safe Flint” he said, reaching up with a gentle hand to stroke along the strong jawline, smiling as he did so. “A friend of the Weasleys is never alone, and you, Marcus Flint, are our friend” 

He let go with a final pat to Marcus’ face, turning as he did so, he stepped quickly back to the floo and swung the backpack over his shoulder. Throwing a pinch of powder into the fire, Bill called out “Shell Cottage” and disappeared, leaving a very confused Marcus standing on the living room rug touching his cheek in wonder.


	3. Distraught (Charlie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, unashamed 3-some smut but no actual brotherly boinking.  
> If you want to pass on that, please skip from "He didn't know how much time had gone by" onto the end notes.

After he had hunted down Bill in the garden to give him the letter and explain the situation Charlie felt completely drained. He slowly trudged back up to his room. Kicking the door closed, he threw himself face first onto the bed and finally allowed himself a good sob into the pillow. 

After what seemed like an age Charlie was eventually cried out, he rolled gracelessly onto his back still ruminating, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Despite crying until his throat was closed up and his eyes were swollen there had been no catharsis. Charlie still felt betrayed to his very core. He pressed his forearm hard against his puffy eyes - it would not do to start thinking about Gerda and Jan now or the happiness that he'd lost. Clearly Ollie was nothing like either of them or this shitty situation wouldn't have arisen. The three of them had been open in communication like any good relationship, Janik, Gerda and Charlie made the perfect, harmonious trio. It was stupid to think that he'd be able to get lucky enough to have that kind of relationship again. He _had_ to stop thinking about Jan, that way madness and a fuckload of fire whisky lay. 

His increasingly depressing thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door and Fleur's head peeping round, her accented voice chiming like bells across his ears. 

"Charlie, why is your Oliver asleep in our sitting room?" 

He simply looked at her, she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth and she practically danced across the bare painted floor to get to him. She took his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled upright. 

"Come on, lie with me while we wait for Bill to get back" she said as she dragged him into her and Bill's room. Pushing him to sit onto the edge of the eiderdown she knelt to remove his boots and socks. She danced her hands lightly up his legs as she rose on her knees then, grinning wickedly, she shoved him hard in the chest, her pale eyes full of mischief as they met his surprised blue gaze. 

"Come on, no talking until Bill gets 'ere. Strip!" she stopped talking but kept smiling mischeviously as she stood and proceeded to lead by example, shimmying out of her tight jeans. Charlie rolled his puffy blue eyes at his sister-in-law's antics but started to peeling off his green t-shirt and dragonhide trousers, leaving his pants on. She got under the duvet patting the space next to her until finally Charlie did as she demanded and slid into bed next to her. Charlie laid his head on her chest and she stroked his hair gentle as he held onto her side. Fleur shushed him and he closed his eyes focusing on nothing but her softness. 

He didn't know how much time had gone by but he woke as the bed dipped behind him and a calloused hand curved onto his chest to pull him into a warm hug. Rough skin scraped his neck as lips pressed against the pulse point under his right ear. Fleur shifted slightly under him as he flexed his arse back into a surprisingly bare and interested feeling cock. 

"Hey little brother" came the deep voice of Bill in his ear. 

Charlie hid a smile in Fleur's breast "Less of the little, I've got more where it counts" 

"Prove it then babe, get those briefs off" came the immediate challenge as Bill's hands dipped below his waistband to his arse and squeezed hard. Charlie grunted as his breathing sped up. 

“So...who’s going to be in the middle of this ridiculously sexy sandwich?” asked Bill as he rhythmically squeezed, his large hands taking up a whole buttock each. 

“Aah, Fleur, uh, you sicko, God!” Charlie was rapidly coming undone at the sensation of being pressed between two willing bodies. The next question nearly tipped him over the edge embarrassingly early in the proceedings. Fleur shifted against him so that her smiling lips pressed to his other ear and her throaty contralto sounded straight in his brain. 

“Top or bottom Charlie cher? If bottom which, front or back?” She licked his pulse when she finished. 

“Merlin” he gasped, shuddering between the two mouths on his neck “Er bottom back if. If that’s o-o-okay?” he stammered. 

The mouths stopped and the warm bodies pulled away. Charlie felt an instant sense of loss which he attempted to cover with casual conversation. 

“You know Bill” he said as he kicked off his pants and started his journey over the top of Fleur’s body “Most people don’t fetishise their own sibling’s arses. I’ve asked around.” He flashed a grin at the other redhead who barked a laugh. 

“Maybe they don’t have a brother as attractive as I do” Bill replied, wriggling down his wife’s front causing her to flex her perfectly rounded cheeks against Charlie’s groin. Charlie groaned, he hadn’t thought his cock could get any harder as he ground it back against Fleur’s arse. 

“Bill, spells” she gasped. A chuckle rumbled up from the curse breaker 

“No foreplay darling?” he asked even as he casually flicked his wand towards her before he dropped it and focused on running his hands over her naked body. She moaned while squirming further into Charlie’s groin as she replied “I ‘ave just spent an hour cuddling naked wiv the second hottest man on the planet, I am good for foreplay.” Her voice turned breathy. Charlie, grinning at his brother, bit down hard on her shoulder. Fleur screamed a little when he suddenly pushed two fingers into her arse to find her already stretched and generously lubed, pumping them slowly, he raised his eyebrow. 

Bill smirked, winking back over Fleur’s shoulder “Not the youngest curse breaker in a century for no reason”. His hands kept on their own journey of thoroughly mapping his wife’s body. The brothers continued their movements while Fleur’s moans rose in intensity until she bowed he back and came with a scream that Bill swallowed with a kiss. As if this signalled the next part both men moved their hands to their cocks and guided themselves into the woman between them. All three groaned deeply before the two men found a matching rhythm. Starting slowly, their grunts and Fleur’s moans steadily increased until Bill gasped “Charlie” who stilled until the other pulled out. 

Bill rested his forehead Fleur’s, staring intently into her eyes, his sweat and hot breath cast onto her face. He held her head still as his brother slowly restarted moving. Fleur tensed and almost jerked but Bill held her firm as Charlie reached and dipped two clean fingers inside her sex to wet them before starting to gently rub between her folds. The intensity grew until Fleur was overwhelmed and she screamed, obscenities flowing from her lips “Fuck, Charlie, Bill, _merde_!” she shrieked, shuddering as she came pressed between them. 

Charlie came, laughing, a few seconds later. “Fuck Fleur, I love your filthy fucking mouth” he said, kissing the back of her head. He carefully withdrew and moved as if to get off the bed. 

“Thanks guys, you’ve definitely succeeded in your aims.” He stood on wobbly legs, turning towards the door. 

“Stay” said Bill. 

“You know this has to be a one-off Bill. I need a man to fuck and a man who can fuck me” Charlie replied flatly. 

“Stay tonight for cuddles then” said his brother, grinning as if they were still a pair kids sneaking downstairs together for a midnight snack. Charlie had never been able to deny his brother anything as proven by the night before Bill and Fleur’s wedding as well as this evening. He mulled it over for a minute, his room would be cold and the pair in the bed were welcoming him with open arms. 

“’K” he replied, allowing Fleur to draw him back down into her arms. The tingle of a cleaning charm was the last thing he noticed before he fell asleep, his skin hunger sated for the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Stay" said Bill  
> "You know I can't Bill, I need a man I can fuck and who can fuck me" Charlie replied flatly.  
> "Stay tonight for cuddles then" said his brother  
> "K" he replied, allowing Fleur to draw him back down into her arms.


	4. Exile (Marcus)

Marcus lay back on the starchy, greying bed covers and idly kicked his heels against the elderly divan base. it had been a rotten couple of months. Being constantly on the move and on the alert was exhausting. This crappy too small hotel bed was far from the worst thing he'd slept on. The only thing he drew comfort from was, bizarrely the three letters from Charlie Weasley. They were with him now tucked carefully into the imperturbable chest pocket of his coat along with his real passport and one of those communication coins that Bill had managed to sneak to him a couple of weeks ago. The anti-theft charm prevented anyone from accessing the contents of his pocket without permission but allowed him to use it freely. 

"Pretty nifty spell work there Mr Curse breaker" he'd said right before they'd gone halves on a very cute muggle rent boy. Man, that kid had been a screamer and his brown bambi eyes so much like Ollie's they'd given him chills and made him come so hard he'd almost passed out. Shit, Marcus needed to get laid but his last two aliases had been a bust so he couldn't risk heading out until he was sure the snatchers weren't going to come through his door again. The wards round the room gave him a minute's head start to fish out an emergency portkey from his stash and say the pass code. 

He scrubbed at his face with one large, calloused hand, sighed and then got Charlie’s letters out again. Smoothing them gently Marcus sought out particular passages with slate grey eyes. _I never thought I’d have the chance to be complete again_ stood out in particular. Bill had told him a little of what happened to Charlie’s previous trio and Marcus could hardly believe how functional the man appeared to be after losing both the loves of his life – one to death, the other to the misery of what had been lost. Marcus was a total mess after kicking Ols out to the point that he’d gone on the run at risk of running into the Dark Lord’s minions rather than stay safely in their unplottable flat filled with memories. 

He shook his head, fuck it, he was doing it. Sitting up he reached for the notepad and biro on the bedside table and started to write. 

_29th April 1998_

_C,_

_If we are all still alive after this shit I am ready to meet with you._

_I think we have things to discuss if you are still interested._

_Say hi to B & F and let O know that I’m still alive. _

_M_

Marcus folded and sealed the note with a tap of his wand. He addressed it to _The Dragon-loving Blood traitor_ and pulled a small portkey out of his pocket. Fixing it to the letter with a sticking charm, he tapped it once with his wand. Letter and portkey disappeared to land in Bill’s coat pocket. Once the letter was detached the portkey would return to his own pocket. It was an incredible piece of spell work that Fred, George and Bill had created from a suggestion Marcus had made to Ols six months ago. 

Well, that was done, now for that shower. Cleaning charms only worked so far and two weeks of using _only_ cleaning charms meant that Mar was feeling gritty from head to toe and smelling funky yet medicinal, not cool. In the interests of security/paranoia he took everything into the bath with him and covered the pile in and _impervius_ before turning the shower right up and luxuriating for twenty minutes. Oh cleanliness, he’d never question it again. Actual clean hair! Armpits that didn’t feel and smell like he’d been bathing in cat litter! Soooo good. 

Miraculously the world did not end during shower time either. Marcus took the opportunity to towel down muggle style before carefully applying cocoa butter to all the dry bits that he’d neglected recently. After sorting out the world’s lumpiest elbows he re-dressed then pursed his lips, considering for a second before running a little cocoa butter through the tight curls just like his mum had done when he was a kid, just enough to give a little extra softness and shine. 

Happily feeling human again mar checked his cash situation and decided it was worth the risk to wander into town for food and some clothes that weren’t one cleaning charm away from unravelling forever. Thankfully Bill had done him a solid and sorted a set of disposable pre-loaded credit cards so muggle money was available to his aliases. He headed off to a small shopping centre to renew his wardrobe then hit up a tiny Thai restaurant for what turned out to be the most delicious calamari he’d ever eaten.


	5. Captain (Marcus)

So it had finally happened, the coin in his pocket had warmed up just as he was about to make a move on the cute blond twink hanging off the bar in The George, Dublin’s oldest gay bar. Oh well. Mar sighed slightly and headed to the loo to check the message _HGSHD APP N2 BAR_. Aw man, what were the odds that he’d splinch himself to the actual bar? He closed his eyes and pictured himself sitting on his favourite bar stool in front of Ab’s bar before turning on the spot and disappearing. 

He arrived in a room full of milling people – order members trying to push through huge numbers of kids. He spotted Aberforth’s disgruntled face by the staircase and made his carefully through the crowd to him. 

“Flint” the landlord nodded. 

“Abs” Marcus grinned back “Bit busier than usual?” 

“Aah, geddon wit you you cheeky sod!” grumped Aberforth 

“We got an exit strategy for the sprogs?” Mar asked. 

“Not as far as anyone tole me” was the disgruntled reply. 

Marcus frowned as he leant against a clear patch of grimy wall next to Aberforth. He looked out at the sea of kids and started calculating options. Apparating? Nope too young and way too many to side-along. Call the parents? Hmmm...how many parents are actually non-Death Eaters? Hogwart’s Express? Oh, come _on_ brain! You’re really scraping the barrel there. His eyes suddenly spotted a familiar snub nosed blond figure surrounded by first years and the answer came to him. 

“Portkeys! Abs I need maybe fifteen portkeys. Generic ones I can key into specific places later” 

The barman looked startled but nodded and headed upstairs to the junk room. Marcus paid no attention to this as he moved onto the next part of his plan. 

“Smith!” he yelled across the bar. The crowd flinched apart from Zacharius who merely raised an eyebrow. 

“Flint” he said coolly “Shouldn’t you be in the forest with your snakey buddies?” 

Everyone twitched again as the huge man barked out a laugh in response. He pushed up his sleeves so he could wave his forearms around, displaying the lack of mark. 

“Ta-dah! That what you wanted Zachy? I’ve been an Order associate for two years” Mar retrieved the communication coin out of his pocket to show Smith. 

“Recognise this? Bill told me to come help so here I am” 

The few probably sixth years were nodding seriously. The slim girl that had been standing nearby when Marcus had had his epiphany spoke up in a confident voice 

“We should listen to him, I think he has the right plan” 

“Er, cheers” he said, surprised and gratified. 

“Okay” he spoke to the room at large “Have we got any injuries?” They all shook their heads. “Great, then all the siblings please group together if you haven’t already. First years stay with Zach and Zariah, your siblings will come to you.” 

Some shuffling about occurred and a few kids burst into tears, apparently their older siblings had stayed to fight. He put them under the care of the girl who’d spoken up for him. She rolled her eyes at him but started talking to the kids in a low, soothing tone. Satisfied that the groups were now manageable as he checked around the room, Marcus felt the mantle of team captain settle on his shoulders for the first time in years. 

“Alright, listen up you lot” 

The room abruptly stilled, every face turned towards him. Woah, this was a shitload of pressure he wasn’t expecting. Today was supposed to be all about going out in a blaze of Deatheater destroying fury, instead, he was kid wrangling. What was the best thing to say? These were tiny Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws for the most part, they wouldn’t react well to his normal captaining style. 

“Right, we have a plan to get you all safe as soon as possible. Abs’ll be back in a mo with some portkeys and we’re gonna get groups of you to safe places you know.” He paused for a moment to think then looked over at the Smiths. 

“Zach, your mum still a Healer?” he waited for the nod from the blond pair. “You’ll need to take all the first years and siblings home with you, that makes twenty-six including you two...”


	6. Aftermath (Charlie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Hogwarts finished half an hour ago.

It was all over. 

The Weasleys stood mourning together. Charlie turned blindly from his younger brother’s body when Bill tapped him on the shoulder. He looked over to the entrance of the Great Hall to see a huge figure limping slowly through the doorway. Marcus looked a mess. One arm was wrapped up in a makeshift sling that looked suspiciously like he’d _incarcero_ ed his wrist to his neck; his trousers were torn, dark and tacky with blood; more blood crusted one side of his face giving a strange, unreal quality to the dark skin underneath. Charlie didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight. He didn’t even realise that he was running until he skidded to a stop in front of the taller man. Marcus seemed surprised as Charlie just silently drank in the view, beaming. 

“You came!” cried Bill who had caught up to them, giving Marcus a genuine though wan smile. 

“Couldn’t stay away when you sent such a nice invite” croaked Marcus “Any chance of a Healer about?” 

Charlie was startled to realise that the other man was swaying on his feet and his normally dark complexion was becoming distinctly waxy looking under the drying blood. 

“Gotta get you up to Pomf, she’s moved all the urgent cases up to the hospital wing for treatment” replied Bill. 

Marcus closed his eyes and nodded before slowly turning on the spot. Charlie saw him almost stagger and before he knew it the redhead had wedged himself under the other’s good shoulder and wrapped and arm around his waist. He relaxed a little as he felt Bill’s arm come round from the other side. 

The journey to Pomfrey’s realm through the dusty, smokey ruins of the castle seemed to take an ice age. Charlie had become more and more concerned as Marcus moved slower and slower. It was a huge relief to finally be stood by outside the hospital wing, Bill knocking on the door. 

There was some murmuring beyond, then the door flew open to reveal a completely speechless Oliver Wood. His sleeves were rolled up and he was wearing one of Poppy’s white aprons. Charlie glanced up at Marcus who attempted a smile. 

“Hey beautiful boy, sur-surprised to see muh-me?” Marcus whispered before sagging further onto the Weasleys’ support. Oliver stepped back as the trio staggered in, Marcus’ feet now barely able to keep his feet under himself. 

“Wood draw up a chair” Bill half shouted. Charlie saw his brother’s nostrils flare. With the door shut the medicinal scent was noticeable even to Charlie’s unenhanced senses but Bill was looking down Mar’s body, frowning. 

“You’re bleeding, how long?” he demanded sharply. 

“Shit” breathed Charlie, he only now noticed that the bloody patch on the trousers had never dried. In fact blood was starting to pool slightly onto the hospital floor now they’d stopped moving. 

“Bout thirty seconds 'fore I broke my collarbone” came the wheeze “Can’t do a binding spell with only one arm” 

Wood was stood there, hand over his mouth, seemingly frozen and he _still_ hadn’t spelled a bloody chair. Charlie very much needed to get Marcus sat down now thank you very much. The man seemed to weigh a metric crap tonne and was getting heavier by the second as the blood loss sapped his consciousness. 

“Oliver” barked Bill “Make a fucking chair now!” 

Wood jumped to obey this time. _Thank fuck_ thought Charlie as he and Bill carefully sat Marcus on the seat Oliver had shakily drawn up. Ollie finally spoke up, leaning toward his ex, desperate to touch him but not daring to. 

“Mar, can you tell me your injuries babe?” 

The other man was breathing heavily, seeming dazed and struggling to focus. Charlie felt his heart clench at the sight. 

“Huh, um, very broken clavicle...scraped my head onna, onna stone... cutting curse caught my thigh... erm maybe some blood loss, mild concussion?” Marcus fell silent, head lolling slightly from the effort of so much talking. 

“Fuck” said Oliver “Okay. _Fuck_ , okay, so we need pain potion, dittany, Skelegro, blood replenisher, Pomfrey to come set your shoulder, a sling and a bed.” Charlie watched as Oliver rubbed his face before speaking again. 

“Fuck, okay, we also need you out of those clothes” Oliver looked up at Bill and Charlie who’d been waiting in silence for their cue. “Strip him off while I fetch him pyjama bottoms” and, swinging his wand to send a screen zipping over, Oliver left. 

Charlie attempted to set to work immediately but Marcus held up a wavering hand to stop him. Charlie glanced at his brother who was frowning but then gave one short nod and carefully cast _diffindo_ to get the majority of the jacket off Marcus, laying out neatly on the floor. Job done, Bill caught Charlie’s eye and gestured to him to continue. The younger man raised a ‘brow. 

“Needed to keep the pockets” Bill explained “Everything else can go” 

“Not the way I planned on first getting him naked” muttered Charlie as they get to work. He was rewarded by a choked laugh from Marcus which made him flush behind his freckles. 

It was not until Charlie cast _finite_ on the temporary sling that the shit hit the fan. Marcus visibly blanched as his head jerked to the side and he was violently sick across the floor. Charlie heard running feet behind him. 

“What the fuck was that?” asked Wood even as he cleaned the floor with a wave of his wand, following up with a mouth freshening charm shot at Marcus. The pained wheeze of a man in serious agony came. 

“Numbing spell dropped” A slightly hysterical chuckle from Marcus “Oh God it hurts Ol” 

Charlie focused like hell on keeping the dark man’s wrist supported against his distractingly muscly bare chest as the emergency treatment happened around him. He was barely aware of Oliver forcing potions down Marcus’ throat before vanishing all the rest of his clothes. Softly accented swearing made Charlie glance down. 

“Fuck” he whispered. The well muscled brown thigh looked like Jan's had on _that_ day. Blood still dripped slowly from the huge gouges, Charlie had never seen anyone manage to walk on a leg that badly shredded. The sight of the mangled flesh, skin and blood made him phase out for a moment. When he came to it was to find Madame Pomfrey had arrived and was simultaneously running diagnostics on Marcus whilst engaging in a furious whisper battle with Wood right by Charlie’s ear. He only caught snatches of it until 

“Why on earth would you give him pain potion before we’d isolated him?” 

“Well sorry for being a little panicked when Marcus ‘tis but a scratch’ Flint actually chunders from pain and then admits to it” was the snarky reply 

“That bad?” the note of alarm in Pomfreys voice went straight through Charlie. He faded away from the sounds that were ringing in his head mingling with the echoing blasts of spells and masonry crashing around him barely an hour ago. All he could see was Jan bleeding out in his arms, his abdomen and thigh cut to ribbons, Charlie and Mitch working feverishly while Gerda screamed in the background. It was too late, too late, Jan’s femoral artery had been damaged so badly that they’d been unable to heal him quickly enough. Gone, gone forever. 

“-lie! Char!” 

Charlie shook his head to clear it as the familiar voice of his favourite brother brought him back to the present. He glanced quickly at Bill and nodded to let him know that he was back in the room. Pomfrey started shooting instructions at them and the next few minutes were spent pulling the now dopily lax Flint’s collarbone back into alignment before the Skelegro caused the bones to set in place. Charlie and Bill stretched Marcus’ arm and shoulders out between them while Oliver carefully spelled the bones back into position and Poppy set them with some immensely complex looking wand work. 

“Right” announced Madame Pomfrey with satisfaction some ten minutes later “You just need to settle him the private room before you remove the _silencio_ Mr Wood” 

Charlie goggled at her, surely gagging a patient was illegal? Bill shot him a warning look and shook his head. Poppy, however, spotted it and threw up her hands 

“Oh really Mr Weasley! I do not incapacitate my patients without good reason” She said exasperatedly “Mr Wood can explain as it’s his fault” 

Oliver went bright red and immediately started fiddling with the lacy edge of his bloodstained apron. Charlie was distracted staring at the blushing Wood, unnoticed by either of them Bill quietly converted the chair into a wheelchair. The other two jumped as Bill snapped. 

“C’mon, lets get him to bed” he said as he pushed the chair past them and headed for the hallway beyond Poppys office. Charlie and Oliver glanced at each other, then trailed after Bill and Marcus who appeared to be talking quite animatedly though silently to the ceiling. Wood looked so nervous on the short walk that Charlie took pity on him and started the conversation. 

“Why’s he silenced?” 

Ollie looked at Charlie in surprise, not expecting to be addressed, he quickly turned his head away but not before Charlie spotted the smile on the scot’s lips. Clearly there was a precedent that Pomfrey and Wood had witnessed. Just when Charlie had given up on getting a reply Oliver spoke up. 

“It was his fourth year, my third. He’d crashed into the stands during a joint practice. Dunno where Hooch was. I think you’d sloped off early to bang someone in the showers as usual.” 

Oliver glanced over at Charlie who smirked a bit as memories of Gemma Jackson, part naiad under the flowing water swam into view. He hummed before inclining his head, inviting Oliver to continue. 

“Anyways, even his own team were too scared to touch him, let alone the ‘Puffs and ‘Claws so I cast a bodybind because I didn’t know _ferrulo_ back then and I used a hover charm to get him up to Pomf. His leg was proper bad, you could see the bone sticking out. I think Snape fired the captain when he heard what happened. So, Pomf doses him with pain meds as soon as we get him on the bed and I take the bodybind off. You could see the bone bulging out the skin, I thought I was gonna puke. The potion kicks in and Mar’s mouth opens and just doesn’t stop. Pomf had to silence him because he made her laugh so much she couldn’t hold still to set his leg. By his eighth year they had a routine where they discussed all treatment first, then she’d dose him and silence him. He could always tap out if needed. This room was pretty much reserved for him when we were at school” Oliver finished quietly, waving his hand at the door he and Charlie were lurking outside of. 

Charlie nodded to show that he understood then pushed off the wall and entered the small side room to find Bill waiting impatiently next to still enthusiastically silent Marcus. Between them they set up the bed and carefully levitated him onto it. Charlie smoothed the covers gently over the larger man earning a grateful smile. Oliver had disappeared for a couple of minutes before returning holding a vial of what Charlie recognised as dreamless sleep. He handed it to Charlie with pleading eyes, still clearly avoiding any physical closeness with his patient. Charlie rolled his eyes but took the potion over to Marcus who obediently opened his mouth for Charlie to pour it into. Marcus smiled beautifically, leaning back on his pillows and appeared to say _Thank you sexy_ towards Charlie who blushed a bit and ducked his head away. He caught sight of Bill’s smirk and sent his brother the filthy glare he deserved. 

“I’m going back to mum before she freaks” smiled Bill “I’ll tell her you’ve volunteered to help Pomf. Talk to Wood about the letter.” 

With that bombshell he was out the door, it closed silently behind him. Occasionally Charlie hated his big brother. This was definitely one of those times. He stood uselessly pink cheeked while an equally pink Ollie fussed a little with the pillows. The scot checked that Marcus was fully asleep then lifted the _silencio_. 

“Okay” he said “We’re safe. You gonna talk?” 

Charlie sighed, at no point in their entire nine month ‘relationship’ had they ever discussed why he’d been single when they first slept together. In fact relationship talk had been strictly off the cards, which, in retrospect should have been a clue the Ol was hiding something. Charlie wasn’t sure where to start on his romantic history so he skipped straight over it (no point telling Oliver now and having to repeat the trauma when Marcus woke up anyway) 

“I got a letter a couple of days ago from Marcus saying he’s ready to talk to me” he started. 

Oliver flinched as if he’d been physically hit. “Oh, okay” he said in a small voice and he turned to go. Crap, this was not how Charlie planned it to go. He desperately caught Oliver’s hand before he could reach for the door. 

“He seems to be getting there with forgiving you too. Stay. Please.” said Charlie as he gently tugged, pulling Oliver back towards him. Oliver didn’t look up, clearly afraid of what everything could mean. Charlie knew that he was going to have to say something before Marcus woke up if he was to salvage the situation with Oliver. He gave himself a couple of minutes thinking space while slowly manuvering them both across the room and down into the simple wooden visitors chairs. Charlie silently prayed for calm before he opened his mouth. 

“I used to be in a mutual three-way relationship” 

Oliver’s mouth dropped open. 

“You never said!” he gasped accusingly. 

“That’s because of how it ended” replied Charlie quietly, glancing at the bed “When I met you I’d been single for a year and a half. It, it wasn’t voluntary.” He shook his head at Ollie’s strangled sound of dismay and kept talking “So, uh, Jan was another dragon keeper, ‘bout ten years older’n me. Gerda was one of the potioneers at the sanctuary. We’d all tried relationships with each other but it just felt like we were missing something crucial until Jan suggested a triad” Charlie laughed, a little hysterically perhaps as Ollie squeezed his fingers in reaction. He continued “And it _worked_ , we never expected it to but it did. Our missing parts fit together like puzzle pieces” 

He looked down and his and Ol’s interlinked hands as his breath hitched a sob “It was amazing, fiery, crazy, perfect right up until a Vipertooth caught Jan’s femoral artery when it flayed open his leg. He uh, he bled out on me. There, there was nothing I could do except hold him. Gerda, she withdrew. A-as soon as the funeral was over she packed up and went back to Denmark” 

Charlie stopped, he just couldn’t carry on. All the feelings of inadequacy overwhelming him. He bowed his head, shoulders shaking with his quiet sobs. He wasn’t competent enough to save Jan, he just wasn’t enough for Gerda, he was the least dutiful son, a deviant failure with no prospects who occasionally fucked his sister-in-law in front of his own brother. 

Lost in misery, Charlie didn’t register Oliver standing up and moving until a pair of strong arms were wrapped firmly around him and he realised that Ol was whispering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” into his ear. Charlie took a few deep, body-shuddering breaths before turning his head fully towards Ollie’s face and kissing him as hard as he could, tricky angle be damned. Oliver made a surprised sound, eyes opening wide and then returned the kiss with a desperate urgency. They only stopped when they were both breathless, faces smeared with each other’s tears, salt wet lips swollen and red. 

“Okay” said Oliver as if continuing a casual conversation “I think a triad with you and Mar would be totally worth trying if he’s willing” Charlie cocked his head, unsure if he had heard correctly. 

Oliver tried again “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with either of you before. I’ve missed you both so, so much. I don’t think my life would be any good wi’out the both a you” 

Nope, Charlie was sure the combination of the battle and grief had driven him insane. There was no way Ollie was actually saying what Charlie thought he’d said. He sat, tears drying on his cheeks, the taste of Ol’s mouth still rich on his tongue trying to process the words he’d dreamed of _finally_ being expressed. A warm hand settled on his chest. 

“Charlie, Charlie breathe for me” came Oliver’s voice, low and urgent “You’re in shock, you need to breathe with me. In, two, three, four” 

Slowly Charlie came back to himself, focusing on the grounding influence of that hand and Ol’s smooth, low brogue. 

“Can we talk about it with Marcus when he’s recovered please?” he asked when he finally had both the breath and mind to speak. 

“Sure” Oliver replied at once “Gotta make sure we’re all on the same page this time”. He smiled self-deprecatingly “I promise to be less of a selfish douche-nozzle” 

“You better” grinned Charlie “You’re pretty awesome you know, secretive douche-nozzlery aside” He bumped shoulders with the now laughing man and they settled in together to watch the monitor spells around Marcus’ sleeping form

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely readers yes I have another Oliver pov chapter in the pipeline I just don't want to lose my draft of epic slogging (one is not a natural typist and all of my work is handwritten before I sit and swear at the keyboard for hours).
> 
> If you have an opinion or a headcanon or just wanna chat about this fic please do leave a comment or message me :-)


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